


Rules of the Game

by alianne



Category: The Immortals - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:31:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5468339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alianne/pseuds/alianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Daine struggles to understand why her friends don't want to play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules of the Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deviousness_Carter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviousness_Carter/gifts).



Daine carefully laid out her stones. She had worked hard on gathering them from the garden and by the path, she had worked all day. But it hadn’t felt like work. She had liked being in the sun, digging through the plants ever so carefully to make sure that the flowers stayed and the weeds were pulled and the rocks went into the pile by the side.

Yesterday she and Ma had gone to market down in Snowsdale, and she had met Kit and Lena and they had taught her a jumping game as Ma had bargained for the herbs she didn’t grow at home. Kit had drawn lines into the dirt, and Lena tossed a stone and hopped, and Kit had followed and they had all laughed when he had tried he tripped. But that was okay because then he got up and they all tried again, skipping over the stone as they landed in the squares.

Now Daine prepared her own grid of spaces, lining up the squares in the meadow behind her house. She had picked the darkest stones she could find so that they would show up well against the green spring grass. It would have been better in lines on the dirt like Kit had done, but she wanted to play with her friends and they liked the grass more. And they jumped a lot. Daine’s eyes lit up as she stepped back to survey her work.

“I’m ready,” she called. “I made a surprise!”

Softfur and his littermates came to Daine. _I told you_ , Softfur said to the others. _I told you she had something here._

“I worked on it all day. It’s a game! I thought it would be a good game for you. You jump good.”

Whiskers fluffed happily.  _I jump! I jump good._ Daine grinned as Whiskers pounced on a dandelion. Softfur nudged his littermate and Whiskers looked back at Daine. _Softfur says you have a game. We like games._

“I know! Come here and see.” Daine took the rabbits to her squares. “See the boxes?”

Softfur tilted his head at Daine. _No_. His voice was puzzled. _I see stones in the grass. What are boxes?_

“The boxes in the grass,” Daine pointed. “See? I made them out of stones.”

 _I see stones,_ agreed Whiskers. _Dark stones. Why are they in lines?_

“The lines make boxes, and you jump into the boxes, and then see who can get to the other side.”

 _But boxes are traps_ , Thumper said curiously. _Why do we want to go in traps?_

Daine stared at the rabbits. “It’s a _game_. You do it for fun. See?” She threw her stone and jumped, with the rabbits watching. She turned to the rabbits expectantly.

The rabbits looked at each other. Finally Whiskers spoke. _It doesn’t make sense. Why do things that don’t make sense? I like flowers._ She pounced on her dandelion again.

Thumper jumped on the dandelion also, wiggling. _I like the flower._

The dandelion sprung back upright as another rabbit sprung. Softfur looked at Daine. _Do you want a turn?,_ he asked. _Hunting flowers is fun._

The human girl shook her head and scuffed her feet. “I have a game I wanted us to play.”

 _I don’t know your game,_ the rabbit said indifferently. _But hunting flowers is fun now. They don’t normally do anything, but now they do things._ Daine tilted her head, confused.

“What do you mean, they do things?”

_The flower. If you hunt it long enough, you win._

Daine pouted as the rabbits took turns pouncing on the dandelion until it burst, sending puffballs into the air. The rabbits squeaked and Softfur directed them to a different dandelion. Listening to their chatter, she tried to skip her stone again, jumping from square to square, keeping an eye on the rabbits and hoping one of them would join her. After another try, she sulked into the house.

As she entered, Ma looked up. Registering Daine’s expression, she put down her sewing. “What’s wrong, Daine?”

Daine climbed on her stool, opened the cupboard, and took out some bread and jam. Putting it on a plate, she brought her food to the table and plopped down. “Nothing.”

Ma’s eyebrows arched as she watched her daughter smear jam onto bread with sharp movements. Ma pulled out the chair across from Daine and sat down, waiting.  Daine had finished half her bread by the time she spoke.

“I learned a game at market, an’ Kit and Lena an’ I played an’ it was fun. I wanted to teach it to the rabbits but they wouldn’t learn it. They didn’t want to play with me,” Daine said through a mouthful of jam. “I made the game special for them and they wouldn’t play.”

Ma raised an eyebrow, but quickly smoothed her face over. “The rabbits wouldn’t play the game you learned at market.”

“I made it for them special.”

“Mmmm.”

Ma sat as the young girl finished her bread. Daine watched as she drew in a slow breath. “Daine, why did you think the rabbits would like the stone-jumping game?”

Her daughter shrugged. “They jump around and such. An’ Softfur said they like playing games. So I thought they’d like this one. I did.”

“Softfur said they like playing games.”

Daine nodded in affirmation, and Ma nodded back. She didn’t say anything, and there was a silence. Daine fidgeted, waiting for Ma to say what she wanted to say, impatient to get up from the table. Finally Ma spoke.

“Daine, did you understand the game the first time that the children at the market showed it to you?”

Daine’s brow furrowed as she thought. “Nuh-uh,” she said slowly. “Lena had to explain how to do it which is why Kit fell, ‘acause he was laughing. But then I got it.”

“Well done, you listened hard and paid attention and learned something new. But I bet rabbits don’t think like you do. I bet they don’t have lessons.”

It was a statement, but still Daine answered the question. “No, they just stay in the meadow. Or the forest. But they eat and try not to be eaten. And they play.”

“Are the games hard?”

“They’re silly games.”

Ma smiled. “Do the rabbits have fun playing their games?”

“They like them well enough,” Daine said. “So what?”

“It sounds like your game is too hard for the rabbits. How would a rabbit throw a stone? And they don’t understand the object of winning.”

“So? They still can play. They’re just being mean.” The small girl sunk down in her chair, emotions coloring her memory of the afternoon.

Ma leaned in towards Daine. “Daine, if you want to play with the rabbits, you have to try playing their game first. Just because someone doesn’t want to do what _you_ want doesn’t mean they’re being mean, or silly. It just means they have a different set of ideas about what is good, or fun. They have a different nature from you, sweetling. The rabbits are simple creatures and like simple games. Stone-jumping is a game for children, not rabbits. Don’t try to change an animal to be something it’s not. Why don’t you try playing a game the rabbits want to play?”

Daine shrugged and pushed back from the table. She began up the stairs to her room, but Ma called after her.

“Go outside, Daine. There’s daylight left. Feed the chickens if you don’t want to play with the rabbits.”

Feet dragging, Daine went back outside, picking up the chicken feed on the way. As she left the chicken coop, she heard the rabbits back in the field. She called a hello as she walked, not intending to go back, when something made her pause. She turned towards the meadow.

“Softfur?”

The rabbit bounded over, Whiskers trailing him. _Hello,_ the rabbit said, sitting up on his haunches. _Do you need something?_

Daine looked back at her stone squares, still visible against the green meadow, and turned back to Softfur. “I’m sorry I didn’t play before,” she said, bending down to stroke the rabbit’s back. “Will you teach me how to hunt flowers?”

Whiskers squeaked happily. _Yes, of course! It’s the most fun._

 

 

Ma watched from the window of the cottage and smiled as her daughter followed the rabbit and began batting at something in the grass. “Verlidaine Sarrasri, you are your father’s daughter,” she whispered to herself. “And some day I’ll tell you so.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
